An Officer and A Gentleman
by Jacquelin Sparrow
Summary: UPDATED. FOUR CHAPTERS. Norrington has always had a defined sense of duty...until a certain pirate's daughter screwed the hell out of everything...
1. An Officer and a Gentleman

**Disclaimer:** Mari is mine. Nothing else is; deal with it. I have to. :P

**A/N:** This is set right after the (as yet uncompleted) _Sins of the Father._ For those of you who have not read that fic, Mari is Jack's twenty-year-old daughter. Along with Will, Liz, and everyone's fav. Commodore, the two get swept up in an adventure. Afterward, everyone starts their journeys home (or to lands unknown). This is how James gets back to Port Royal. Hope you like!

Commodore Norrington attempted to concentrate on the sunset. It was, after all, a particularly beautiful one. The clouds were drenched rose and gold, and the horizon was a rich indigo line. The sea was awash in the sun's sinking golden glory as the stars showed their faces in the deepening night. However, any movement Norrington was tempted to make was rapidly cut off by the protest of badly sunburned flesh.

Although he was a seaman, James had been bound to a desk rather than a deck for several years now. This was not a position that served to sun-proof skin, as it were. Thus, it was a rather poor moment in time when Commodore James Norrington had put aside decorum and propriety to discourage the ribbing of his new pirate companions. By noon he had been the only fellow aboard the _Crimson Cutlass_ still wearing a shirt. This was a source of unending amusement for Mari's crew.

During a spout of particularly undignified anger, Norrington had thought inwardly that he'd have done better staying aboard the _Black Pearl_. But, of course, hindsight was as clear as Caribbean seawater.

"_Yes, of course," Mari had said sarcastically. "It'll look ruddy wonderful for the good Commodore to descend the plank of the most infamous pirate ship in the Atlantic."_

"_I don't plan to tie up at the docks, my lass," Jack had replied, "Too expensive."_

"_Precisely my point. It's one thing for young Will and his bonny lass to trip back into Port Royal out of nowhere –it seems a habit with them- but Commodore Norrington ought to return under...less conspicuous circumstances, as it were. The _Cutlass_ is not nearly so well known as your lovely _Pearl_. We can easily go into port under false colors and say we fished the poor man out of the ocean."_

"_I have been tempted to throw him overboard," Jack said contemplatively. "But, it's really up to you, mate." Jack turned toward the officer, his chocolate eyes suddenly hard and dangerous._

"_But, keep in mind, old Jim, that's my whelp you'll happen to be sailing with."_

_The Commodore had simply looked down his straight nose at the pirate._

"_Believe me, Captain Sparrow, I don't intend to forget."_

Neither pirate knew quite how to take that remark, he remembered. He began to smile, and winced. _Bloody pirates._

Suddenly, an unintentionally cruel hand gave him a mighty pat on the back. James yelped involuntarily, and pressed a glare on his attacker. Mari stood next to him, her expression bland and slightly amused. Norrington understood then that she knew all about his current painful situation.

"There's a reason besides modesty that young Will remains clothed at sea," she said quietly. "He –unlike some, it seems- does not enjoy resembling a lobster."

"I had forgotten the large space between my last true bout at sea, and this catastrophe," Norrington explained. Mari nodded, and produced a small jar full of something sticky.

"This is something I...liberated from an apothecary in Singapore. It should aid your recovery, as long as you're not recaptured by the urge to denude yourself."

Norrington took the jar from her, wincing as he did so. Sweet merciful heavens, it hurt just to move!

Mari watched him with a slight frown, and reclaimed her jar.

"On second thought, follow me, man. Ye'll tear yerself apart, doing this alone."

She walked briskly to the cabins, flung open a door, and ushered him inside. Norrington paused at the door, noting that these were Mari's quarters, and that –pirate or no- technically she was a lady. His inhibitions were quelled, however, by her searing glare.

"It's either this, or get flogged by salt spray. _I_ don't care which ye choose, but you might, in the morn."

Norrington entered the cabin.

Once inside, Mari turned up a lamp and gestured to the bed.

"Off with yer shirt. And no arguing; I be captain of this vessel, and that was an order."

James removed his shirt painfully; the movement combined with the rasp of cloth saw him clenching his jaw (more than usual) when the task was done. Without instruction, he lay on his stomach on the bed, feeling more uncomfortable by the moment. Mari's boots clumped toward him; there was the sound of a cork popping from glass and then a hand on his back.

The salve was absolutely wonderful. It cooled his abused skin immediately, numbing the pain as well. Mari worked efficiently and in silence. Norrington felt her closeness acutely and spoke before he really knew the words had formed.

"Would you marry me if I asked?"

The hands stilled for a moment, then resumed.

"Ye just did, mate; but I'm a bit confused. I thought ye were in love with dear Liz?"

Norrington sighed. "My feelings for Elizabeth were real; I cared for her. But now I know...now I know why she chose a struggling blacksmith over a well-to-do officer."

"You're saying you...get a grip on yerself, man! Ye've known me for eight months." Mari's voice was disdaining, but also rather strained. Norrington rolled up on his shoulder to regard her face-to-face.

"I should like an answer, my lady."

Mari responded by smearing salve on his chest. It was better than meeting his eyes.

"Can ye imagine the wedding? My father- _my father_, dear Jim, walking me down the aisle? To give me to a Naval officer? And the bride's side would be woefully under-seated; too many outlaws in the family. And my dowry! All I've got of my own in the world is my _Cutlass_. How can ye ask me...and expect a consent?"

Norrington almost smirked. Mari Cutlass was babbling; she never babbled. She was witty, sharp, incoherent, or scathing. But never a babbler. He took her hand from its ministrations and inspected the fingers thoughtfully.

"What if things were different?" he asked. "Say, perhaps, you were simply a woman, and I were simply a man, and there were no such complications to vex us. What would you say, then?"

"I suppose...I suppose I'd have to...Shouldn't you have asked my father about this, first? Isn't that what gentlemen do?"

"I thought you made your own decisions, _Captain_."

Mari regarded the floor in a most un-Sparrow-like manner. James gently tilted her face toward him and merely raised an eyebrow.

"I'd say yes." The words were almost inaudible. "But, I'm a pirate, and your and officer. Our fates are not our own, Commodore."

"Our fates, no," James said slowly. "But, this moment...this moment is what we make of it."

Mari's eyes met his, two sets of calm brown pools. James had captured both of her hands during their interview and kept them now. Mari half-smiled in her own distinct manner and leaned forward. James did the rest.

The kiss lasted a few moments only; more than that and their fates would have changed utterly. And, no matter what else he might feel, or want, Commodore James Norrington was first and foremost two things.

An officer and a gentleman.

**A/N:** Aww! We get to see a side to these two characters that ppl don't usually see; I like things like that. Do you? Review and tell me!


	2. An Officer and a Pirate

**Disclaimer:** Plot's mine. Mari's mine. I am stiffly enduring non-ownership of all else.

**A/N: **I've decided to do these in a series of one-shots. The next one will prolly be a Christmas special, so I'll see ya'll then!! Not much time to write these days; I'm at COLLEGE.

What was he doing here?

Mari stared at the man in front of her, her pistol barrel pressed firmly against his temple. He stared back, equally perplexed as he leveled his sword at her gullet.

"James," she hissed. "What the h-"

Suddenly she was spun away from him by strong arms, then grasped to his chest.

"Be quiet and look hostagely," Norrington hissed back. Mari did as she was told, a rare thing, indeed. Not even Jack could elicit that sort of obedience from his daughter.

James tugged her to a dinghy and stuffed her under the canvas.

"Go back to your ship," he whispered. "Poseidon no doubt misses his lover."

Before Mari could reply, James stepped back and cut the tethers, sending the boat splashing rather dangerously into the ocean. Without hesitation (but not without regret), Mari Cutlass rowed back to her crimson-sailed beauty. A tightness in her chest and a lump in her throat bespoke of the sorrow that filled her. However, she let not a tear fall until she was back aboard her ship, her crew safe, and the _Crimson Cutlass_ en route to Germany.

("They'll never look for us in _Germany_," she reasoned. "Their fear of the Norse far outweighs their desire to capture us.")

When all was cared for that a captain need care for, Mari quietly exited to her cabin, curled on her bed, and sobbed.

Mari didn't often let herself cry, and never did it without good reason. She hadn't seen James in over six months, since she'd let him off at Port Royal. To meet him now, under _those_ circumstances, having almost killed him..._with nary even a kiss..._and seeing in full, painful relief, the social difference between them, only intensified the knowledge that they would never be together. She curled into herself more tightly, biting the edge of her blanket to prevent her sobs being heard.

A soft knock sounded on her door.

"Permission to come aboard, my lass?"

_Curse it all. _Mari had forgotten Jack was sailing with them.

When she remained silent, Jack entered anyway. She refused to look at him as he approached her, didn't acknowledge it when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Look at me," he said softly. Mari squeezed her eyes shut. Once, Jack would never have bothered to find what was wrong with her; once she would have given anything for this. She supposed she should be grateful.

Should_ being the operative word._

At the moment, she only wanted to be alone. _Always alone. I can never have him, so I'll always be alone._

Mari rolled over on her back to look Jack in the face. His eyes widened slightly; and well they should. Mari knew what he saw; her kohl smudged and running, her nose red and running as well. Her eyes bloodshot, her face flushed, and a twisted look of pain marking her features.

"God save us; he was on the ship?"

Mari nodded; they both knew who he meant. Newfound trust had led them to confide everything in one another.

In a moment, she was in his arms, resting in his lap as if she were a little girl. She wept into Jack's greatcoat, suddenly immensely grateful for him. His deep, sea-roughened voice spoke soothing words as he rubbed her back. He rocked her gently until she spent herself on tears. The two of them were silent then, for a time.

"Papa?" Mari rasped after some moments. Jack's throat constricted. She rarely called him that, even now that they were actually acting like family. He held her a little closer.

"Yes, my lass?"

"Does love always hurt this much?" Mari looked into his face; Jack brushed strands of auburn hair from her eyes. Her mother's hair.

"Only when it isn't treated right. Love is like a ship; it must be steered correctly or it will take you to the depths with it."

"I want to go to him."

_I want to go to her._ Jack had spoken those words more than twenty years ago, to Bootstrap about Mari's mother. He had done it eventually, but not until it was too late.

"I know, my lass," he whispered, saying the only thing he could think of.

"I know."

Commodore James Norrington walked the decks of the _Silent Lady_ with a distinctly pained expression on his face. He had been wishing to see Mari for months, and when his wish came true, he had lost her again.

_God, why must things be this way? Why can't we simply live happily, without this stomach-twisting anguish? Sweet heavens, is this what Will felt for all those years?_

Suddenly, James hated himself for ever having tried to marry Elizabeth.

And, his respect for Will grew tenfold.

_We live in two different worlds,_ he thought dismally. _Worse, our worlds are at war with one another. How can we possibly be together when the veritable Heavens are threatening to tear us apart? God knows I love her. She'd be up for the hangman's noose, and I for a promotion, else._

The truth was, ever since the incident with the Sirens, Norrington had lost his zeal for hunting pirates. At least, two pirates in particular. Near-misses, fool's mistakes, and misread messages were all synonymous with the _Black Pearl _and _Crimson Cutlass_ these days. Other buccaneers he sought with all his fury.

Only those two eluded him.

The Governor aided his cause, not quite able to condemn a man who saved his daughter's life, on numerous accounts. Swann never inquired as to Norrington's reasons for never quite attaining either ship, and Norrington never offered. They had an understanding; that was all that mattered.

_No, it isn't. So many other things matter, such as my standing in the Navy. Mari's welfare; both physical and emotional. That means Jack's welfare matters as well, no matter how irritating I find the man. _

James sighed deeply. He needed Mari in his arms, to hold, to kiss softly, even though he knew he'd have to let her go again. He only hoped Will and Elizabeth would have the sense to send him word should they receive a visit from "Lord John Gull and Miss Margaret Gull," should they come calling.

Muttering to himself (a thing someone so self-possessed never did) James Norrington forced himself back to his cabin, and to bed.


	3. A Caribbean Christmas, Part I

**Disclaimer:** Oddly enough, the daughters in this story both belong to me. I admit it; they're mine. Won't Ruthie and Elizabeth be surprised? ;P

**A/N:** Okay this is the first part of the POTC Christmas special! I told y'all I would hbe creating one, and here it is. So, HappyChristmas, all, and a Merry New Year!

The night was chill, or as chill as it ever got in the tropical Caribbean. The whole of Port Royal was clothed in holiday splendor; even the poorest houses were bedecked with a few candles and a sprig or two of holly. There was, of course, no snow, something that a few of the British-born lamented, but Christmas in Port Royal was cheery, all the same.

It was Christmas Eve, and the best houses were in the throes of parties fraught with egg nog, brandy, and mistletoe. The governor's house was particularly blessed with both brandy and guests, laughing and eager to greet the greatest of holidays. Elizabeth moved with ease about her father's house, smiling at the graceful way Will slipped from "lowly" (though extremely well-to-do) blacksmith to highborn gentleman without batting an eye. It was a skill he had carefully perfected even before they were married, so that no one in the Swann family could bemoan Elizabeth's and his union.

Her smile widened as young Isobel Turner flew from the parlor where the children played and clasped tiny arms about her father's leg. Grinning, Will lifted the girl high into the air, planting a kiss on her cheek while she giggled and spread her arms out to "fly."

Elizabeth pulled her attention away from her beloved family back to her conversation partner. However, he seemed as distracted as she was. The Commodore gazed at Will and Isobel, a frown beginning faintly between his stoic brows. Mrs. Turner's heart ached; Norrington had not courted a single woman in the four years that she and Will had been married. Many believed that this was because of his heartbrokenness over losing the young Miss Swann to a blacksmith; the couple knew better. Norrington hadn't married because the woman he loved was already being courted by the sea.

Watching him, Elizabeth couldn't bear the thought of allowing him to go home to an empty house. She touched his arm to gain his attention, smiling.

"Commodore," she said, "Will and I would love it if you would join us for a Christmas Eve night cap."

Norrington's eyes lit up gratefully. He had spent much of his spare time with the Turner's, especially holidays. Both Will and Elizabeth had begun to think of him as a member of the family; Isobel called him "Uncle James."

"I would be delighted, thank you, Elizabeth," he murmured. The young woman smiled at him again, and made her way to Will, who now held a deeply sleeping Isobel.

"Mm…looks like someone needs to be put to bed," Elizabeth murmured, stroking her daughter's hair. Will kissed his wife's cheek.

"Ready to go, then?"

"Indeed. James is going to be joining us this evening, though."

"Splendid! Why don't you take Sleeping Beauty from me," he said, handing over the child, "and I'll ready the carriage and meet you outside?"

The three strode into the Turner home, full of laughter. Isobel was now fully awake and riding on her father's shoulders, engaged in the sort of banter three-year olds are prone to. Will closed the front door behind them and stopped, frowning a bit.

"Will? What's wrong?"

"It sounds as if…someone's playing the pianoforte."

Indeed, there was hearty Christmas music coming from the inner parlor. Isobel perked up immediately and wriggled down from her father's shoulders, determined to be the first into the room.

"Gr-Ankle Jack!" she squealed as the familiar greatcoat and tricorne hat greeted her eyes. Jack turned, fingers never faltering on the keys, and grinned shinily at the little girl.

"It's about ruddy time," he chastised cheerfully. "We thought ye'd never get here!"

Finishing his song with a flourish, the pirate rose to swing Isobel into the air. She squealed happily as Great-Uncle Jack tossed her high and caught her in their standard greeting.

"Have mum and dad been behaving themselves for ye, little lass?" he asked, tickling her ribcage. Giggling, Isobel answered the affirmative. She wriggled to the floor, then, and raced into the kitchens, where the suspicious sounds of baking were to be heard.

"Jack, heavens, man, we haven't seen you in ages!" Will clasped his friend's hand and clapped him a hug in greeting.

"Bloody right! We thought it about high time we pay the Turners a visit, and what better time o' th' year than this? Elizabeth, darling!" Jack released Will to take Elizabeth in his arms and plant a kiss on her cheek. "Motherhood has made you even more beautiful, if that's possible."

"It's good to see you, Jack! But, what's all this talk of 'we'? Has someone else come with you?"

Just then, Isobel rushed back into the room, her tiny hand clasped firmly about the thumb of Mari Cutlass. Flour speckled her impeccable green shirt, evidence to her doings in the kitchen. She, too, was consumed by warm Turner greetings, especially Isobel, who found having Auntie Meg, Great-Uncle Jack, _and _Uncle James all in the same room nearly too much to bear.

After a few moments, the two pirates finally noticed the Commodore, and stilled a bit nervously. James eyed them for a moment, then put out his hand to Jack.

"Pleasant greetings, Lord John Gull, is it? And Lady Margaret" –with a bow to Mari- "splendid to see the two of you again."

Tension seeped out of the room. As far as Norrington was concerned, these were not criminals; they were friends of the family, and no one would hear differently from him. Relieved, Will and Elizabeth went to lay off their wraps, while Isobel tugged Jack back to the pianoforte.

This left James and Mari eyeing one another rather nervously.

"You've been well?" James asked softly. Behind them, Jack began teaching Isobel to henpeck _Jingle Bells_, the music covering their words.

"Yes, quite. And you?" Mari replied. James merely nodded. _Strange, _Mari thought, _all I've wanted these last months is to see him again, and now I can barely think of what to say. _I _who have a tongue to rival my father's…_The thought made her grin, and James grinned back a little hesitantly.

"D'ye know anything about baking, James?" she asked, her usual boldness returned.

"A bit," he replied. "why do you ask?"

"I'm doing a bit of Christmas baking for the Turners, and I could use some help."

"It would be my pleasure," the Commodore replied, following her eagerly into the kitchen. As he passed Jack, the pirate sent him a cautionary glare. _Odd, _James thought, _one wouldn't believe Mari to be a papa's-girl._ Yet, with Jack's constant over-protectiveness –at least where men were concerned- she could hardly be anything else. James shook his head. Pirates –especially these two- would always be a paradox to him.

Once in the kitchen, James saw a tray of ginger-bread men cooling on the counter, waiting to be decorated, a bowl of unmixed dough close by with a bottle of rum next to it. The sweet-spicy fragrances of baking hit him pleasantly, reminding him of holidays he'd had as a boy.

Mari drew him to the bowl and picked up the rum.

"Rum cookies," she said grinning, and took a swig from the bottle. "Have to make sure it's good quality." She then proceeded to pour about twice as much rum into the mixture than was needed. James grinned as she began to mix, enjoying the way she swayed to the music still coming from the parlor.

"What precisely did you need help with?" he asked softly, standing next to her. Mari took his hand and held it firmly, drawing it up close to her face…before plopping a sticky mass of cookie dough into his palm. Laughing silently, she picked up her own handful of dough, and began rolling it into a ball.

"Form balls about the size of your palm," Mari instructed, still grinning, "and put them on the sheet. Once they're in the oven, we can decorate the gingerbread men."

James was still looking askance at the glob of rum-laden pastry in his hand when a grin forced its way to his lips, a hearty chuckle tickling his throat. Heavens, he'd missed her. Without warning, he gripped the pirate's chin firmly in his clean hand and pressed his lips against hers. Carefully keeping her hands away from his coat, Mari wrapped an arm about his neck, responding contentedly. They shared a few more pecks before returning to the task at hand, now totally at ease.

Jack eyed the door to the kitchen suspiciously. After a flurry of giggles some moments ago, there hadn't been much sound coming from behind the door. Isobel bounced in his lap, eager for another demonstration of Jack's piano prowess. The elder pirate returned his attention to the keys, only then noticing that Sparrowhawk had made an appearance.

Sparrowhawk was a two-year old tabby with an extra-long tail, given her name because of her propensity to shadow Jack's every movement whenever he visited. And, when the moment was ripe (or when Jack's various hair accoutrements were too tempting to pass up) she would attack out of nowhere, usually from above, eliciting a stream of creative vernacular from the pirate captain. The Turners suspected Jack was beginning to regret having given the kitten to Isobel in the first place.

Now, the cat's green eyes were fixed on the new sliver bells tied into Jack's unruly mane. Captain Sparrow watched the feline with narrowed eyes as he continued to play, Isobel making up words to the song and oblivious to the battle of wills going on above her. Suddenly, there was a slight crash in the kitchen, Jack turned his head…

…And Sparrowhawk struck.

The cat launched herself from the top of the piano to Jack's precious tricorne hat, intent on killing the offensive silver bells. The hat fell over Jack's eyes, causing him to play a nonexistent chord and nearly fall from the bench. Isobel, giggling, slipped from "Gr-Ankle" Jack's lap to watch the scene.

"Bloody hell!" Jack spat as he tipped the hat from his head. Sparrowhawk, wearing an expression something like amusement, sped away with a chirrup, her work finished. Growling in his throat, the weather-beaten pirate grabbed his hat to inspect it for cat hair.

"Bloody hell?" a childish voice asked behind him. Jack's heart constricted. He turned to Isobel, smiling nervously.

"Now, dear lass," he said gently, "we don't want to be sayin' things like that, especially in front of mummy, a'right?"

Isobel nodded happily. "Bloody hell."

Jack dropped his head in defeat. "Elizabeth's goin' t' murder me."

The scent of rum and pastry filled the kitchen pleasantly. The gingerbread men were fully decorated, two or three bearing frosting bandannas. James held Mari's hands tightly as he kissed her once more, hoping fervently that no one –most especially Jack- didn't choose this moment to see what they were up to. Mari pulled away from him, a smirk reminiscent of her father's pasted on her face as she slipped the gingerbread onto a plate.

"I love you, you know," James said, rather offhandedly. Mari dropped her spatula with a small crash. Retrieving it coolly, she continued her task.

"'S about ruddy time ye said something."

James smiled. That, he knew, was as close as he would get to an "I love you, too."

"I want to marry you," he went on, as if he were speaking about the weather. "We could have a very private ceremony; two or three witnesses, and you could go back to piracy while I pretended to hunt you, and neither of us would have this aching void inside any longer."

"Funny, love, ye never seemed the eloping type t' me."

"I never seemed the type to fall in love with a pirate, either I suppose."

"Captain. Pirate _captain_, love."

"Is that a yes, then?"

"No," Mari told him blandly, before gripping his face between both hands and kissing him. Hard.

"But that was."

James nodded, in something of a daze. "Very good, then."


	4. A Caribbean Christmas, Part II

**Disclaimer:** We all know the drill. The characters you don't recognize are mine, all the others wish they were. Happy Holidays!

**A/N:** Okay, Part II of a Caribbean Christmas. I know I"m cutting it close, but there's another Christmas chapter on the way, and after that we'll have all the hilarious convos between Jack and Mari...example: No one ever gave Mari "The Talk." That in itself should be enough to draw you back....LOL.

Elizabeth and Will finally made their way back into the parlor, after the impromptu delay of calming a hysterical maid. Not that either Turner could blame the poor child; Elise was sixteen and very new in the household. Understandably, finding two pirates in the kitchen, and then being instructed by Estrella to prepare rooms for those pirates had caused a major offense to her genteel nature.

"Honestly," Elizabeth murmured, "as if _Jack Sparrow_ would harm a single person residing in _our_ home."

"She'd no idea who it was," Will answered, "and neither Jack nor Mari is exactly a comforting figure."

Elizabeth sighed a little and shook her head. "She _was_ told about them, wasn't she? I could understand her being caught off-guard –that happens to us more oft than not- but to be hysterical…" The young woman shook her head. "Poor girl."

The two entered the parlor, then, to find a rather harried-looking Jack replacing the piano bench from its sprawl on the floor. Close by, Isobel knelt beside a smug Sparrowhawk, who cleaned her paws with zeal.

"Bloody feline," Jack muttered, his back to the approaching couple.

"Jack," Elizabeth said with an admonishing tone, "please, no rough talk with Isobel in the room."

Will chuckled. "Indeed, if she repeats any of it, you can be sure I'll be blamed for teaching it to her." He hoisted his daughter in the air as he spoke. Isobel laughed in delight; Sparrowhawk looked relieved.

"As if she'd listen t' anything I'd have to say," Jack said, slightly nervous. Will blew a raspberry on Isobel's neck; she squealed and poked his nose.

"You'd be surprised at what they pick up," the blacksmith said. His expression showed he'd learned _that_ lesson all too well.

"Indeed," his wife murmured, and kissed him on the cheek. "Tell me, darling," Elizabeth said to her daughter, "what have you and Great-Uncle Jack been doing all this time?"

Jack made a swift motion as if to intervene in Isobel's response; unfortunately, this caused the fractious bells in his hair to chime. Sparrowhawk flew from her new perch atop the grandfather clock and tackled him directly in the face. Jack stumbled backwards –keeping his invective to himself- attempting to remove the creature from his person without hurting it. The three Turners watched the scene in ill-concealed amusement; Isobel clapped.

"Bloody hell!" she said cheerfully. Elizabeth's eyes darkened; Jack froze with the cat held at arm's length, she clinging to his sleeve.

"Jaaaack…." Elizabeth began warningly. The pirate very carefully put Sparrowhawk on the ground, and put on his most charming smile.

"Now, Liz, darling, you can understand, 'twas a mere slip of the tongue…"

"Jack _Sparrow_," the woman continued. The charming smile froze and slipped just a little.

"Mari said it?" he tried. Elizabeth moved toward him, poised for a verbal strike as Will moved away with Isobel, a grin tugging at his mouth. Just then, Mari and Norrington reentered the parlor, carrying fragrant trays of cookies. They halted just inside the door as they caught sight of Captain Sparrow being backed into a corner by a very irate Mrs. Turner. Jack eyed the couple wildly, and saw his chance out of a good talking-to.

"I believe," he said, pointing with a flourish, "you two are under the mistletoe!"

The pair looked up in mild confusion, confirming Jack's observation. Norrington stiffened; Mari's cheeks turned pink. However, the two moved to put their burdens down so as to satisfy tradition.

As the moment of danger passed, Jack suddenly realized what he had done.

"O-of course," he went on, "you could forgo tradition, just this once. I don't want anyone to do something they'll regret…Right, Commodore?"

This last was said with a bit of warning tingeing the sea-roughened voice. Norrington eyed the pirate coolly, realizing suddenly that this man was to be his father-in-law. If Jack let him live. _God, help me. _

"On the contrary, sir," James remarked bravely, "I don't think it a mistake for a man to show affection to his intended wife, do you Mari, darling?"

The whole room stilled.

Elizabeth roused first, and came forward to congratulate her friends.

"How wonderful!" she said, hugging Mari tightly. "Will, isn't this wonderful?"

The blacksmith snapped back to himself and smiled.

"Yes of course!" He shook Norrington's hand, grinning and kissed Mari on the cheek. "The two of you will make a fine pair, I'm sure."

Jack was the last to react, his face puckered in disbelieving confusion. He put a be-ringed hand to his lips, gesturing lightly with the other as he made some mental calculations. Murmuring to himself, he came forward, chin pressed firmly in hand.

"My lass," he said finally, "I don't know what to say."

"Bloody hell!" Isobel put in. Jack nodded in approval.

"Thank you, darling, I couldn't find the right words. Tell me, _James_," Jack said, leaning toward the officer, "isn't it done to ask the father's permission before any suit is put toward the lady? I'm absolutely shocked that you of all people put aside propriety where such a jewel as my daughter is concerned!"

"Jack-" Mari began, and was duly ignored.

"Thus, because of your lack of decorum, and the sheer and simple fact that I don't like you, I say that while young Mari has accepted your proposal, I have not. And, until such time as I do, no wedding can commence!" Jack threw up his arms in triumph, smiled lightly at the Commodore, and murmured, "Ta."

Thunderclouds rolled into Norrington's expression; Mari was downright livid. Her eyes narrowed as she stepped in front of her intended, fully intending to tell her father what for. It was a rather dangerous moment, indeed, for this event could break the newly growing relationship between the Sparrows. Will –knowing he was taking his life in his hands- handed Isobel to Elizabeth and stepped between father and daughter.

"Move, lad," Jack muttered.

"No, Jack, I don't think I will," Will told him firmly. Jack's eyebrows reached for his bandana.

"Dear Will, I wasn't aware that you had taken up the occupation of becoming entangled in business not your own," Jack said pleasantly. Will smiled a little.

"On the contrary, Jack, as long as we're quibbling semantics, I'd like to remind you that Mari was my father's goddaughter, correct? Therefore, she and I are…" Will frowned a bit, "god-siblings, and I have the right to intervene for her."

Jack grinned, enjoying the banter about to ensue. "A'right, then, what say you about the matter?"

Will paused for a moment and thought about all the things he _could_ say, all the things that _might_ buy Jack's acquiescence, until he hit upon the fact that would surely gain the pirate's approval.

"How often does a pirate get the chance to make an officer of the Navy his son-in-law?"

Jack gave Will a look of pure admiration before stepping around him to wrap an arm about his daughter's shoulders.

"Best of luck to ye both," he said happily, clapping Norrington on the back. Norrington started a bit, then offered Jack a tight smile.

"Drinks…all around?" he said hesitantly.

"James, ye've read me mind! Oh, are those rum cookies?" The captain swaggered forward to confirm his query while Elizabeth called for egg nog. Mari and Norrington looked as if they were in a mild daze, hardly daring to believe the events of the night.

"God be praised for Christmas miracles," Mari murmured.

"Indeed," James agreed.

**A/N:** Happy Christmas, Merry New Year, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanza, Merry Yuletide!!!! AND A SPECIAL SHOUT-OUT TO ALL THOSE WISHING FOR A WHITE CHRISTMAS (etc...) WHO LOVE SNOW AS MUCH AS I DO!!! WHOOT!


End file.
